Dying of Thirst
Posted on 05. Nov, 2006 by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Inquisitive, Loss
I tried forgetting myself
deep within the well of desire
mostly lost in discarded passion
and fruitless isolation
It was not my mind
keeping me prisoner behind this facade
but my heart as I poured forth
and tasted the nectar of my labour run dry
Random words treaded across my spirit
leaving marks that tore into my carefree demeanour
and pushed my nature deeper, without taste
as another sip brought me closer to oblivion
Yet I knew, more than I care to admit
that my lips would never again thirst,
nor accept the tender compassion that I once dreamt,
and only yearn for sweet memory as I succumb